


A do-over

by RedChucks



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Terribly sappy romantic nothingness, mild pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 07:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16827838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedChucks/pseuds/RedChucks
Summary: Vince feels like he’s going to burst with all the things he refuses to say to Howard. He opts for kissing instead.





	A do-over

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry. It’s really late and I can’t sleep and it’s been a really long time since I wrote any Boosh fic and I tried and it’s the best I can do just now. Sorry.

It had been a month since Howard’s birthday. A whole month of awkwardly dancing around the whole _“I’m a massive gayist!”_ thing and Vince was starting to worry that if it carried on much longer he would actually burst.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been worried that he’d burst. The first time he got invited round to the Moon house for Christmas lunch he’d worried he’d burst, because Mrs Moon didn’t seem to understand the word “No” when it came to giving him second helpings and Vince was physically incapable of knowingly disappointing people, and he’d ended the day with a massive stomach ache and a genuine fear that he would pop.

Of course, that hadn’t been as bad as the whole “Black Tubes Fiasco” as he shudderingly thought of it. Even the doctors had been concerned that Vince would burst when all of the blood vacated his legs and flooded his face and even after the worst of it was over Vince’s cheeks had been stained a dark, shameful, red. Sometimes he still felt a little wobbly, if he was honest, and he’d had to ease off on the platform boots and high heels a bit because of it which had been depressing - and he was pretty sure his face was still puffier than it had used to be, like it hadn’t quite gone back to the right shape, hadn’t deflated all the way - but he hadn’t mentioned any of that to Howard.

Vince didn’t mention much of anything to Howard anymore. He didn’t want to be mocked, even though he knew he was due a good mocking and that Howard was brimming full of the most potent mockage known to man or beast, and that it would actually be an entertaining event to witness... he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to know that Howard thought he was such a fool, and so the conversation went unsaid. Like so many that Vince would’ve liked to have had with Howard but didn’t dare to.

But the incident at the party, that was eating at Vince more than any other of his unsatisfactory interactions with Howard over the last year, and he just knew that one day it was going burst out of him, like an alien out of his stomach, and he just hoped that he didn’t end up with a shaved head because of it. (He didn’t remember much else about that film but the shaved head still gave him nightmares.)

Vince was no good at keeping things to himself, not really, no matter how hard he tried, and he used to think that it was a blessing that Howard just never listened properly, and was a bit slow, because he could be as obvious as he liked, could flirt like a flamingo if he wanted, safe in the knowledge that Howard wouldn’t realise the truth. Now he wondered if it wasn’t a curse. Howard just didn’t see him anymore.

Once upon a time they’d been so in sync it was like they had their own language, now, to Vince, it felt like they were speaking completely different languages, and neither one of them has a dictionary to translate. It was sad, and Vince didn’t like sad, didn’t _do_ sad, which had made life with Howard, especially over the last month, painfully hard.

 _It’s not the only thing that’s been painfully hard,_ a snide little voice in his head sniggered, and Vince looked edown furiously at his cup of tea, feeling the hot blush return yet again to his cheeks, knowing it would be obvious to anyone who saw him, no matter how much make-up he’d put on that day. He deserved the shame though, he knew. He’d been perving on Howard while he was making lunch for at least ten minutes - making lunch and bopping his hips along with whatever jazz he had blaring through his iPod. (The iPod had been a birthday present from Pete, which made Vince feel like even more of a prat than before, because while the bouncy castle had been a great gimmick, it hadn’t actually been something Howard would have asked for. Vince was supposed to be Howard’s best friend, yet Pete from Dixon’s had bought him the present he actually used and treasured, a fact that stung.)

Howard waggled his hips again, miming along to some jazzy trumpet solo, and Vince found his eyes drawn upwards once again. He really did have a hot pumpkin ass and Vince crossed his legs tightly under the table as he stared. He needed to get a hold of himself, needed to play it cool. He could not, under any circumstances, let Howard know how he felt, or what had been bothering him for a month.

“Did you just not like it then?” he blurted out suddenly, his eyes widening as Howard jumped and then turned to face him, confusion written large on his face. Howard was usually oblivious when he had his jazz going, oblivious to Vince’s every word and action; it was just Vince’s luck that when he said something regrettable Howard actually heard him.

 _Shut up!_ Vince told his brain. _Just stop talking and maybe we can salvage this!_

“What did you say, Vince?”

“I said did you just not like it then?” Vince said louder, wincing at his own words and begging his brain to just leave him alone. “Because I can do better!”

He hadn’t meant to say any of that and was starting to panic, and his chest tightened painfully when Howard actually walked toward him and sat down beside him at the kitchen table.

“Hey now, Little Man,” Howard said gently, setting his iPod and headphones down and giving Vince more of his attention than Vince thought he’d had in years. Not since the zoo times, he thought wistfully. Maybe it was the fact that he was wearing green. He didn’t usually wear green, he worried that it washed out his complexion, but the outfit had just been too tempting, soft and floaty, like a mixture of the softest moss and forest fairy wings. Vince looked up suddenly when Howard tentatively touched his wrist, and felt his cheeks flush as he realised he’d been distracted by his outfit and that Howard was looking at him with deep concern. “What’s gotten in to you?”

Vince bit his lip, hating the tears that were suddenly itching behind his eyes. Howard was being sweet, sweet in a way Vince hadn’t experienced since he’d had to copyright his face against Lance Dior. He very carefully edged his tea cup away, out of Howard’s reach, and then took a deep uneven breath.

“Nothin’s gotten in to me, Howard, it’s just...” Vince glanced up, just to make sure that Howard really was listening, then looked away quickly when he accidentally caught Howard’s eye, and quickly had to recross his legs and look away. How did he even begin to explain? “No one’s ever ditched me before. I had a reputation,” he whispered, twirling the flimsy fabric between his fingers. “I was the Mayor of Camden, kisser extraordinaire. No one could deny my charm. Some suspected my lipgloss possessed magical powers, but it was all me, the skill of my lips, until...”

He sighed and chanced a look back at Howard, but the poor man just looked confused, his beady eyes blinking rapidly as he struggled to understand what Vince was telling him. He half expected to be laughed at and wasn’t sure he could handle that, not when he’d actually dared to make himself vulnerable.

“But your kiss flipped my switch,” Howard said quietly and Vince felt his mouth run dry and the excess blood finally drain away from his face. “I did say at the time...”

He sounded too young, like the Howard who had used to come running to him, hopping and prancing about the place, wringing his hands and tearfully explaining that they needed to leave town and start a new life whenever the school bullies came calling for his pocket money, and Vince just could take it. He shook his head and looked away. He couldn’t deal with Howard being so sincere and honest, he never could.

“You ditched me,” he said, hating that it sounded like a whine. “And the thing is, I’ve been thinking, that maybe, well, maybe I was off my game? I had a cold, you know? so I was trying not to totally tongue you, cos I didn’t want you going off at me for making you sick or nothing. And so I was thinking maybe you didn’t like it, cos it wasn’t my best work. And...” _And you love him!_ his brain screamed, but Vince shook his head. There was no way he was saying that. “And it really hurt,” he said lamely. “Hurt my reputation, I mean. Vince Noir’s kiss has only failed once, and it failed on Howard Moon! I need a chance to redeem myself, Howard, you don’t know what it’s like! I need a do-over!”

Howard shook his head. “You flicked my switch, Vince,” he said in quiet wonder. “You opened up a whole new world. But then when we fell and I... got scared. I’m sorry.”

“I’d still like a do-over,” Vince said, daring to look up again, this time holding Howard’s shifty, nervous, gaze. “I’m worried you didn’t like it. And I can do better. I want to prove to you that I can do better. That I can flip your switch for good, not just a minute. You’ll like it this time, I swear you will.”

He waited, watching Howard’s eyes dart about the room before they settled on Vince’s lips. Vince felt his heart begin to flutter in his chest. It was a feeling he knew so well, like the beginning of a panic attack but without the pain deep in his chest. It was a feeling he associated with Howard and Howard alone.

“Alright,” Howard said eventually, his voice smokey and low and so sexy Vince didn’t even take the time to redo his lipgloss before leaning forward to press his lips to Howard’s, unable to fight against his brain’s demand that he hurry up and just kiss the man!

It was a good kiss, even by Vince’s standards, and he made sure to time it properly this time, flicking his tongue against Howard’s panting lips and delving in when Howard opened them, his breath stuttering in the most delicious way. He even made sure to guide Howard’s hands when they began to pull at his clothes, bringing one up to press against his cheek and the other to his waist and then ran his own hands through the smoke of Howard’s hair, relishing the opportunity to do so while the man was actually awake.

“Now that is a proper Vince Noir kiss right there,” Vince said breathlessly as they parted, smiling giddily at the look on Howard’s face. Part of him was still absolutely terrified, ready to bolt at any sign of a declaration of love, but Howard was still holding him, quite tightly, and he knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

“It... it certainly was,” Howard replied. “Thank you. Thank you Vince, for giving me the gift... of a second chance.”

Vince nodded, grinning so hard it almost hurt, and then leant in for another kiss. Strangely he still felt like he was going to burst, but not because of everything that was unsaid between them, or because his blood was all stuck in his cheeks (most of it had definitely gone south) but because he felt so filled with happiness that he couldn’t contain it. He’d flicked Howard’s switch and he wasn’t ever going to let him get away again.


End file.
